My Suitcase Is Packed                                                                                                                                                                                  Scott Laudati

 

i know you’re home somewhere out there

in colorado

where the desert flowers

wait all year to turn yellow

and horses with spanish blood

whip their manes under lightening

as the snows melt down to refill

dried beds.

somewhere where enough was enough

and you had to put a continent between me

and new jersey.

i’ve seen that land and pulled over

to swim naked

where the white crests shatter

and freedom is something more

than a dream.

there are no dead ends on your streets.

the rain only falls straight down and even

stray cats

come when they’re called.

i bled for you once

when the war was still far from over

and the end hasn’t gotten any closer

so i guess

i’d do it again